Page 32 of Conquer the Highlander

“I know.”

Axel paused. “You should also know something else,” he said. “Your friends have decided that if The Bear harms you in any way, they will swarm the field and destroy him.”

Titus’ head snapped up. “Tell them that if they do, I’ll never speak tae them again,” he said. “This is my fight. I’m not a weakling who needs others tae fight my battles.”

Axel smiled faintly. “You need to learn the difference between men believing you to be weak and men wanting to protect their friend,” he said. “They know you are not weak.”

“Then tell them to stay away.”

Axel cocked his head. “Let me ask you a question,” he said. “If it was Cam or Brody lying on the ground, about to be murdered by a man three times their size, would you stand by and let it happen?”

Titus knew what he meant. He backed down a little, looking back to his gloves. “Of course not,” he said. “I would kill any man who threatened my friends. But tell those nervous women tae stay out of my fight.”

Axel chuckled. “As you wish.”

He started to walk away, but Titus stopped him. “And… and tell them that I love them for their concern, but I’ll break the neck of the first man who sets foot in the arena while I’m fighting.”

Axel paused, his eyes glimmering with mirth. “Glück, Eagle.”

Titus had heard that word from him before. It meant good luck or good fortune. As Axel walked away, Titus stole a glance at The Bear. The man had worked himself up into a froth and the field marshals were looking to Titus to see if he was ready. Once he signaled that he was, the bout would begin.

Titus turned fully to look at The Bear, observing the man as he formulated a plan. Axel was right. He would have to strike first and make it count. If he didn’t, his life would be in danger.

He knew that as surely as he breathed.

He’d faced big men before. Being that he wasn’t particularly tall, that happened all of the time. Tall men weren’t much of a challenge because they usually couldn’t move very quickly, certainly not as quickly as Titus could. That was one of his greatest strengths – his ability to move swiftly.

His ability to go airborne and kick a man in the head.

But that wasn’t going to work this time.

This time, he was going to have to be smarter, and more deadly, than The Bear.

Fortunately, he had an idea that he was certain would work. He just had to be fast enough to execute it. In the arena, men were limited to clubs as weapons, but Titus never used one. He used his legs and feet as a club. However, this was an exception. If The Bear was expecting his feet to come up, then he would have to do something different.

An array of clubs was stacked on the sidelines of the arena, and he kept his gaze on The Bear as he made his way over to the big, iron guides that held all shapes and sizes of clubs. When The Bear saw him moving for a weapon, he, too, moved quickly to claim a club. Even from across the arena, Titus could hear The Bear laughing, thinking he would have it easy in hand-to-hand combat with clubs.

That only served to infuriate Titus.

This time, he was going to skin The Bear for good.

The roar of the crowd was growing louder as they became restless. The Bear and The Eagle were delaying the inevitable and the crowd began to get rowdy. Titus glanced up into the stands and that was his mistake. On the left side where the wives of the gladiators usually sat, he caught a glimpse of Isadora, Lilia, and… Esme.

Great Bleeding Christ!

It had been a grave error. Now he knew Esme was watching him and it threw his entire balance off. Why it should, he had no idea, but it did. He felt… edgy. Uncertain. It was performance anxiety, something he never experienced because he’d never performed in front of someone whose thoughts actually mattered to him. He knew that he could no longer delay. Suddenly, he was running for The Bear, club raised, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

His unexpected charge caught the crowd, The Bear, and the field marshals off guard. The crowd screamed to ear-splitting proportions as The Bear, startled by The Eagle’s move, simply lifted his club. Titus was nearly to him by the time he raised it, unable to react any faster. Titus drew near and The Bear roared, preparing to bring his club down with ferocious strength, but an odd thing happened.

Titus abruptly fell to his knees, although it wasn’t an accident. It was by design. He went down, sliding across the dirt as The Bear swung his club and missed, but he’d swung so hard that it threw him off-balance. It was enough of a stumble that Titus, on his knees as he slid into The Bear’s feet, was able to bring up his club and smash it into the man’s groin as hard as he could.

The crowd gasped.

The Bear, immediately disabled, toppled onto the dust as Titus leapt to his feet. Lifting his club once more, he hit The Bear in the head, so hard that he split the man’s skull. He hit him again, full of battle lust, and ended up crushing The Bear’s head. Blood and brain matter stuck to the club, but he tossed it aside as The Bear bled out into the dust of the Fields of Mars.

And with that, the fight was over.

The crowd, who had gasped loudly when Titus hit The Bear in the groin, was stunned into shocked silence when they saw Titus break The Bear’s skull. But that silence was only momentary – as soon as they realized Titus was victorious and The Bear would no longer rise against their champion, they began screaming even louder than before.